


103 - Omegle

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-10 22:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17434853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “reader and Van go on omegle and everyone is saying shes super pretty, and at the start hes grossed out because of all the peen? She wants to show him bcos he wanted to know the most embarrassing part of her teen years, and its that she went on omegle alot, and he doesnt know what it is so she shows him?” and “Maybe u could incorporate giving Van head into the omegle one. Maybe they do it in front of the camera or summat.”





	103 - Omegle

The laptop was open on the edge of the coffee table, and the floor below was covered in pillows and blankets. You sat side by side with Van, looking at the screen. He'd asked you what you wasted your teen years doing in reply to you saying he used his well at band practice. Omegle. That's what. Hours spent with friends, alone, even your mother one time, just cycling through the webcams of strangers. When he told you he'd never been on, you knew it was a universal wrong that needed to be right. So, there you were, cups of hot tea in hand and the red light next to the camera illuminated.

"Van, I'm not joking when I say it's eighty percent naked guys," you stressed again for the thousandth time.

"Yeah, yeah. But it's all dead funny, right?"

The masturbating dudes started straight away. Van cackled with laughter, hiding his face in the crook of your next. You mumbled, "Told you so," and continually clicked through to the next people. There were a lot of groups of kids that looked pre-teen. You rolled through them quickly, too. A different type of awkward, given, but as unsettling as naked men. There was a guy with a rubber horse mask dancing to Skrillex. You watched him for a few minutes, hypnotised by the rhythmic swaying of the snout. The next person wasn't on camera. It was a bedroom, and sitting on the bed was a large cucumber.

"Could be gonna throw his cat at it?" Van said.

"What?"

"Like, you know them videos where the cats are afraid of the cucumber?"

"Oh, honey, no. He's gonna fuck the cucumber," you replied, laughing. Van made a sad face. You went to click next but he grabbed your arm.

"Wait! Let’s just… see…"

"You want to watch a dude fuck a cucumber?"

"When ya put it like that it sounds well fucking sleazy."

You waited, and sure enough, a guy appeared. He was naked but wore a creepy Halloween Mike Myers mask. You made a sound of discontent, of pure unsettlement. Van put his arm around you. It was happening. The guy covered the vegetable in copious amounts of lubrication. You started to shake your head. Van laughed through his nose, not taking his eyes off the screen. The cucumber was lifted, and you jumped to the next person.

"Y/N!" Van yelled.

"Seriously?"

He pouted and you kissed his cheek, laughing. A voice from your laptop made a comment. "Mate, what's wrong with ya? Fucking hot chick like that and you're not kissing her back? What are you? Gay?"

You didn't know which thing to rip him apart for first. The chick thing? The gay thing? Van leant over and clicked next. You looked at him. "We don't engage with people like that, yeah?" he said. You nodded. There was a return of naked dudes, then what appeared to be Niall of One Direction. You laughed out loud.

"Oh my god. I forgot about this. So, this is fake, right; someone comes on with pre-recorded footage of him and tricks people into thinking they are legitimately talking to One Direction. It gets a lot of people, apparently," you explained to Van, remembering a friend who had fallen for the prank despite not actually caring about One Direction at all.

You spoke to some Americans while they got profoundly stoned. There was an Australian girl who was up at 4am listening to Liability by Lorde on repeat, singing for the camera. You clapped when she finished, and she gave a bow. There were three different people dressed as Batman, but only one could do the voice. When the camera showed a running shower but no people, you went to click next, expecting the worse. Van stopped you, and you gave it a few seconds. A guy jumped up, naked but you could only see his chest, and started to sing The Lion King song. You were hysterical, but Van was mesmerised and deeply impressed. Between each of these creative, beautiful people were a sea of naked junk that made you squirm. Van covered your eyes each time, telling you that you were too precious to be seeing this.

"So, this is it?" Van asked, after an hour.

"Yeah,"

"You would just spent hours on here?"

"Yeah. Sometimes you'd get lucky and find someone to actually talk to. I found a handful like that and we kept talking on Skype and stuff," you explained. Van laughed and looked at you with a face of judgement. "What? Fuck you,"

"Did you have more internet friends than real life friends?"

"Internet friends are real! Fuck you!" you replied, and hit him playfully on the arm.

"Ohhhhhhhhh! Hey! No! None of that! Love only!" from the laptop. You both turned. There was a guy that appeared normal. He was smoking a rolled up cigarette, or maybe a joint. He had an English accent, not too dissimilar to Van's. Van gave him the thumbs up. "Think you should kiss and makeup," the guy said. You leant over and kissed Van on the cheek, but he did the same, causing your lips to collide. You laughed into each other's mouths and kissed properly. "See. That's better,"

"Yeah," you said to the guy. "Hi!"

"Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing. Just showing him Omegle. He's never been here," you told the guy.

"How's all those cocks going for you, man?"

Van laughed. "Yeah… Good for comparison, you know? Good for the ego,"

"Not a fuckin' world where I'd compare myself to these clowns. I ain't fuckin' no cucumber," the guy replied, and you and Van lost your shit.

"Did you actually watch it all though?!" you asked. The guy laughed and nodded. 

"See!" Van complained. "Told you we should have watched it,"

"Nah… you made the right choice. Somethin' like that ain't for a pretty girl like her to be watching," he told you. Van moved in his spot and put his arm back around you.

"She is pretty, isn't she?" Van said. The guy nodded and there were a few beats of silence where you thought maybe Van would skip next out of protectiveness. He didn't, though. He leant over and kissed your neck, softly, gently. You smiled at the stranger on your laptop. He watched quietly. Van rested his head on the side of yours. "What's he doing?" he whispered to you.

"Watching," you replied quietly. The guy was swinging in his office chair. You looked at the room behind him. A normal home office, but there was a poster of Gorillaz on the wall. "I like your poster," you told him, raising your voice so he could hear you. He swung around, then back.

"Thanks. What kind of music do you listen to,"

"Oh, you know, everything. There's this one band though that I really love. Catfish and the Bottlemen. Have you heard of them?" you asked. Van smiled against your skin.

"Nah. Would I know any of their songs?"

"Maybe one called Cocoon."

The guy held up a finger, indicating to give him a second. Then, you heard the sound of the song playing in his room. "Oh, yeah, nah, I do know this one. Bit basic isn't it?" You laughed and listened to Van chuckle as he turned his head away from the camera.

"Yeah. Oh, dead simple, but they're all well fit, so you know,"

"And how do you feel about that, mate? Your girl crushing on rock stars," the guy asked Van. Van turned back to the camera, sitting up straight. He shrugged. You laughed again and leant over to kiss Van. When you did, Van didn't let you pull away. The kiss was deep, and you knew it was for show. It was the same kiss that existed when he'd sometimes pull you on stage, or when you were being hit on in bars and he'd wander over, kiss you, then walk away without saying anything.

"What are you doing?" you whispered to him. He smiled, not answering, and kissed you again. You let it happen. You let him kiss your neck, run his hands under your shirt. The guy watching was quiet, and you could still hear the sound of Cocoon playing. It was probably open in Spotify, or YouTube in a different tab. Either way, he'd not see Van walk through with Larry in the wheelchair. He'd not recognise Van.

"I wanna do something," Van said in your ear.

"Like what?"

He shrugged. You thought for a second. There wasn't enough money in the world to get you naked on camera. People on the internet were clever and unkind; they'd know how to record, or they'd criticise your body (and you could pretend that you wouldn't care about that, but you would). The lightbulb levitating above your head lit up, and you looked at Van with a smile. Like you knew his kiss, he knew your smile. The smile that curled across your face when you'd pull him onto the tour bus when nobody was in there. The smile that always prefaced the love bites you left across his skin.

You kissed him once, then pushed the coffee table across the floor. It gave you room to move. You positioned yourself next to Van on your knees as you unzipped his pants. He watched you, amused and probably in shock. Van glanced over to the laptop. The guy was still watching. Regardless of what he came to Omegle for, he wasn't about to click next on a pretty girl giving a guy he could relate to head.

"Are you really doing this?" Van asked quickly, once, before your spine bent to allow your head to sit on his thigh. You looked up at him, grinning, and nodded. "I think I might be in love with Omegle?" he joked.

"Me fucking too, mate," the guy in the laptop said. You all laughed, and you got to work.


End file.
